The Christmas Dress
by THE BACON NINJA WITH WINGS
Summary: Ella has to go to a ball for some ungodly reason. And for a ball, she has to have a dress. Nine comes along to the dress shop. Christmas oneshot.


**Happy Holidays! I figured I might as well post this. Christmas present, you know. Fluffy little oneshot between an older Ella and Nine, who I ship _so much_. I've had this written since October (I have no clue why I wrote a Christmas fic the day before Halloween, but I did.), and I'm just putting it up because I can. I write a _ton_ of stuff, but this is all I've posted. First reviewer gets a oneshot of their choice! It can be anything you'd like, but it'd prolly be best if I've read/seen it.**

**OKAY that's enough. Enjoy! (And review. Pretty please? For me? For Santa?)**

"I say no," Nine growls, "and that's final."

"Nine!" I protest. "I sort of have to have a dress for a ball, you know." I gesture at the floor-length skirt and the fabric makes a quiet ruffling noise.

"Well you can get one that's not so... Ooooh-y."

"... Ooooh-y."

"You know." He shifts uncomfortably.

"No, actually, I don't." I put my fists on my waist.

"Ooooh-y. Like..." He makes a shape with his hands.

"What?"

He does the motion again, slower. Both hands go out, then in, then back out again.

"... Are you calling me a slut? Because I can show you some girls at this school-"

"No! Ella, I mean..." He grips his hair and paces. "I mean that you look too attractive in that... Thing and I don't want you wearing it!"

"What, you think those horny teenage boys are going to be all over me?"

He sighs with relief. "Yes, that's exactly it."

"Good."

"Ella!" He starts beating his head against the wall.

"I don't understand why I can't wear it! It's gorgeous, it's really cheap for a prom dress, and if I have to go to a stupid winter ball for a mission, I can at least look the part."

"But you do look the part, and that's why you're not going to wear it!"

"What part am I supposed to look?" I put my hands on my waist, getting angry now. "And what part do I look? I don't see what-"

"You look sexy, Ella!"

We both freeze at what he just said. My face feels hot and Nine's is pink. You could hear a pin drop.

"... Aaaand the shit just hit the fan." He mutters.

"Nine-" I say. He stomps out of the room.

I stare after him for a few seconds and then sit heavily on the wooden bench outside the small curtained changing room, stunned. Nine thinks I'm... Does that mean...

I'm just so confused.

I take a deep breath. Since I got older and was more of a friend to him than a little sister, the others have tried to set us up, though it never worked. We'd always been friends, just friends, and I'd never wanted anything else- But did he? I mean, I've toyed with the idea. What girl wouldn't, in my situation?

I lean my head back against the wall and close my eyes.

* * *

I stalk out of the small dress shop and down the cold street. I left my gloves, scarf, and hat inside, and my fingers and nose immediately grow cold and red. I stuff my hands in my pockets and blow air onto my nose. I lean against a streetlight and sigh.

Didn't mean to say that, didn't mean to say that, my brain kept saying.

But my heart tells me that was a lie. I am terribly attracted to Ella and it was time she knew.

But god I didn't mean for it to come out like that! I sounded like a perv, some creepy rapist. I remember Ella when she was ten years old and barely came up to my waist. Then all of a sudden she was five foot eight and had curves and was gorgeous and... I'm screwed.

In her mind, I was like a big brother. Maybe a friend, if I was lucky. A boyfriend? Never in a million years.

In my mind, our relationship was like a crappy romance novel. Boy secretly lusting after a girl who doesn't know he likes her.

Cliché, right?

To make things worse, it starts snowing. White, fluffy, insubstantial things that won't stick.

I groan out loud. The clock tower in the middle of town rings eleven.

A bell down the street jingles and I curse out loud. It's the bell from the dress shop.

I turn to see Ella running towards me, scarf flying behind her. The sweater of mine she's wearing (she wears my clothes all the time. It's infuriating and it drives me crazy.) comes down nearly to her knees.

I turn away and start to walk further down the street. "Nine!" Ella calls. "Stop! Wait!"

I don't stop, but slow my pace. Her footsteps get louder behind me and then she tackles me with a massive hug around the middle. I stumble.

"I told you to stop." She growls.

I lower my head. She pushes me back against a streetlight and laughs softly.

I open my eyes and stare at her quizzically. "What is it?"

She's staring somewhere above my head, smiling. "Mistletoe."

"What?!"

"It is Christmas, Nine."

"Oh, well, I, uh, should probably go buy presents and stuff- how does a hot chocolate sound to you? It's freezing out here, wouldn't want you to get cold-" I ramble, not even paying attention to what I was saying. All I know is that she is giving me that look that means you're so stupid and smiling bemusedly and then she stands on her tiptoes and her lips are on mine and the streetlight is digging into my back and I'm cold and warm at the same time and my hands are on her waist and her hands are rough on the back of my neck and her nose is cold pressed against my cheek.

"Merry Christmas, Nine."

"Merry Christmas, Ella."


End file.
